


A Shortage of Minds, A Shortage of Bodies

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Soul Nomad
Genre: Abuse & Exploitation, Action/Adventure, Bisexuality, Demon Summoning, Female Revya - Freeform, Genderfuck, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: Gig and Revya are stuck in the same body again. Long abandoned Thurist cult members are trying to summon a monster from another dimension. If Orviska doesn’t take over the world with militaristic power, they’ll do so with rising crop prices. And Levin (aka. Raksha) is somehow the ‘nice’ one in all this. It just goes to show how messed up everyone is.





	A Shortage of Minds, A Shortage of Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Just to clarify the basics, this fic is a mash-up of Gig’s and Levin’s character endings. I’d also recommend familiarity with the extended Levin (or Endorph) version of the Raksha fight. In a much less central sense, the story also makes references to other character endings, and crosses over a tiny bit with _Phantom Brave_.  
>   
>  Be aware, this fic has unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubcon themes, mental health issues, sibling abuse, ableism in relation to both physical and mental disabilities. In general it’s a story about a trio of morally vapid characters with a limited capacity for empathy, who I am nonetheless undoubtedly affectionate towards.  
>   
> At your leisure, please Read & Relax!  
> 

 

The tests turned out to be difficult. Very difficult. Much more difficult than either of them expected.

Gig had thrown a hissy-fit.

“What the hell do you mean you stupid teardrop! Display of true love my ass! I can’t exactly _kiss_ the stupid bitch while we’re inhabiting the same body!”

Revya wanted to say that calling her a ‘stupid bitch’ wasn’t exactly a productive method for proving their true and undying love.

But Revya was accustomed to not being listened to and, after weighing her options, she heaved a sigh instead.

Gig was still going off at the Crimson Tear. Their fists were clenched and their legs were spread as they balanced on the rocks at the summit. They were sporting a ferocious glare, and the image was entirely ruined by the sudden inhalation and exhalation of Revya’s sigh. Gig was cut off mid-sentence, and Revya felt his annoyance prick towards her.

The Crimson Tear decided this was a good time to teleport them back down from the top of the Yuga Mountains.

A string of curses left their mouth, against Revya’s will, as they were deposited on their behind, at the mountain’s base. Revya didn’t really listen, as she moved their hand around to rub at their back.

“Shit!” Gig concluded, as they collapsed down onto the ground.

Revya let her hand rest idly on her sword’s hilt. Gig had done his share of bitching, but in the end had agreed to leave his halberd in the village. They couldn’t really handle two weapons at once anyhow.

They just laid there for a while. It was getting dark, and Prodesto’s sky had turned grey and ugly.

Revya feels a couple of tears prickling up in their eyes, and she lifts up a hand to wipe them away, as if she can prevent Gig from noticing if she moves fast enough.

“Dammit, kid, are you crying?!” Gig says, not knowing well enough to leave it alone.

 _Shut up_ , Revya replies half-heartedly, and within their own head. Gig is always so loud. She doesn’t know why he can’t just keep quiet sometimes.

“No! Fuck your crying and fuck that outdated piece of jewellery!” Gig protests. “She doesn’t get to decide if our love isn’t… _truuuue_ or- or _puuuure_ enough! She can take her opinions somewhere else! I’m gonna march right back up that mountain and show her who the Master of Death is!”

But their love isn’t pure or true enough. Not for the Crimson Tear. And not for Revya either.

 _He needs to take better care of you,_ Danette had said obstinately. And Revya had agreed, just because it was easy. But the truth is she isn’t sure that’s what’s missing with them. And she isn’t sure Gig’s the one who’s causing the deficiency.

Gig’s still talking about how he’s going to tear the Crimson Tear a new one, but Revya interrupts.

“Just forget it,” she says. Out loud this time. “Just forget it.”

Gig is silent for a moment, as he tries to piece Revya’s words together.

“What do you mean _forget it_! I just got my own body and I-”

He goes off again, and Revya stops listening. She doesn’t want to climb all the way back up the mountain just to hear they’re a failure. _She_ ’s a failure.

Gig fells her reticence, somehow.

“You know what? Fine, kid. Fine. It’s your body that’s missing after all. So it’s your loss if you don’t want to go back and fight for it! Just be that way!”

 _How do you know it’s your body?_ Revya asks. _I seem to have an equal amount of control over it._

 _…And it has breasts_ , Revya adds.

Gig snorts. “Yeah. And a _dick_!” he says. “Face it, kiddo. It’s mine.”

Revya shrugs their shoulders (her shoulders) to prove a point. _At least it doesn’t have your scrawny build._

“You take that back!” Gig shouts. “I don’t-!”

Revya raises up their right arm. She wraps their hand in a fist and, without warning, plunges it directly into their gut.

It knocks the air out of their lungs together, but it’s not an equal punishment. Gig’s the one who cringes and wheezes and whimpers.

“What the _hell_ , kid?!” he says, between gasps for air. He’s never had much tolerance for physical discomfort. “When I get out of here,” Gig hisses, “I’ll carve your eyes out to make sure you’ll never so much as look sideways at a hotpod again-!”

“Who’s there? What’re you yelling about?!” somebody interrupts. And it’s not Revya.

The voice is mundane and masculine and a little nasally, and Revya doesn’t recognise it, although it must be a Sepp judging by the clop-clop of hooves.

She feels Gig tense though. A tremor passes through their forehead. Gig tries to push their body up off the ground, but Revya resists. The Sepp’s already caught up to them, a looming face above them.

“Raksha-” Gig spits out, like he’s disgusted to even feel the name on his tongue.

Their eyes widen, though, as Revya realises who it is. The green headband and blond hair and muscular build.

“Levin!” The name bubbles up in her throat.

And it’s stupid. She’s being so stupid, but she stretches out their arm. She reaches up, silently requesting Levin’s hand.

“What the- The _hell_ are you doing, kid?!” Gig hisses through their bared teeth. He strains, trying to pull their arm down, but Revya is resolute.

Levin, for his part looks confused.

“R-Revya?” he asks, in that voice that doesn’t sound quite like the voice Revya remembers. “Or my former boss…? Both of you, it looks like.”

Levin sighs, but he doesn’t kill them, like Revya should be afraid he will. He reaches down and grabs their arm and pulls them to their feet.

Revya stumbles. She’s uneasy on their feet, since she has to coordinate with Gig. Levin, who by comparison is surefooted against the rocky steep, tugs on their arm to hold them straight.

Revya’s still struggling to maintain their grip on the ground, and Gig uses the opportunity to take back control of their shared arm. He tugs it violently out from Levin’s grip, and so it’s entirely his fault when they lose their balance and fall backwards down to the ground.

“Son of a-!” Gig shouts, as the rocks scrape into their back.

Levin rolls his eyes. He squats down at their side, looking unimpressed.

“Not doing so well, are you?”

Revya blinks. She’s not sure how to respond to that.

Gig has no such problems.

“Come off it, Raksha!” he snaps. “The _hell_ are you doing in a place like this?!”

Levin raises one eyebrow. His fingers are picking idly at the fur-lined fringe of the leather jacket he’s wearing. Then he shrugs.

“How would I know?” he asks. “’S probably Haephnes’s idea of a joke.”

There is a pointed pause, as Gig measures the situation. Then he grins and chuckles.

“Hehe, that hag always did have a shit sense of humour,” Gig says. “Hey, you remember that time she wanted to send out those-”

“Birthday cards.” Levin nods, finishing the sentence for him. The side of his mouth curls upward.

“ _Everyday a new soul is born, so don’t forget to celebrate! Have a very Haephny Birthday!_ ” Gig mocks is his most sweet and sappy voice.

Gig and Levin both laugh. Gig laughs so hard that it actually manages to hide it when Revya’s tears spring into their eyes this time.

Revya’s laying on the ground, and Levin’s laughing above her, and she feels invisible.

She strains, and pulls them up into sitting position again. She swings their arms and legs around, and starts to stand.

Levin stands too, and moves back to give them room, but Gig doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Aha ha...” Gig’s laughter trails off. “Haephnes always was an old bitch,” he says.

“Y-yeah,” Levin agrees hesitantly. He’s watching as Revya pushes them up to their feet. He’s watching as their abs tighten and their chest bounces, and turns red.

And Revya can tell Gig hasn’t quite put that together, but he senses weakness and chooses that moment to strike.

“Yeah,” Gig agrees. “She’d have to be a total bitch to save your dumb ass, Raksha!”

Revya watches as Levin flinches. He frowns, upset at the response that’s been pulled from him.

“You better count your lucky stars that somebody out there thinks you’re worth a shit, because me and the kid sure don’t! You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here!” Gig laughs. And it sounds cruel in a way Revya thought Gig had abandoned. “Stupid, dumb, arrogant Raksha~ In case you’ve forgotten – I _own_ you. And you ought to be grateful I don’t strangle you,” he hisses.

Gig tries to glare Levin down, but Levin has the high ground and he stands up straighter. In their joint body, Gig and Revya are more than a head shorter than him.

“Fuck you,” Levin retorts. His eyes are glassy and his voice is even and prim. “Thuris and I were always treading eggshells – trying to put on a big show, trying our best to seem intimidating, trying to prove ourselves to you. Fake it until you make it, they always said… Heh~ I can’t believe it took me so long to figure out that you were the biggest fake out of all of us.”

“You son of a bitch,” Gig growls.

“The last time we met you couldn’t even dominate me without my consent,” Levin snips coolly. “You think you own me… can control me… you can try.”

He leans forward and the cold façade breaks to reveal the raw pain and anger he’s holding back. He practically snarls in Revya’s face.

“But I’m telling you right now – I’m not selling myself out! Never again! Not on my life!”

Revya blinks. She frowns. She nods.

Levin’s expression changes abruptly.

“Screw this. I don’t have to take this,” he says sullenly. He turns and walks away.

“…Levin,” Revya calls.

Levin looks back for a moment. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something. But then he takes off like a flash, sprinting off into the horizon.

 _Ah, there he goes…_ Gig sighs in relief. _Crisis averted. Be sure to thank me, the oh-so-loveable Master of Death. Oh, Gigey! Thanks for scaring off the scaaaary World Eater!_

Revya’s not in a thanking mood.

 _You didn’t have to provoke him like that…_ Revya responds.

“Oh, what?!” Gig snaps, aloud this time. He’s emboldened now that Levin isn’t more than a speck off in the distance. “I didn’t see you coming up with any ideas on how to scare him off!” he adds.

 _I don’t think we needed to scare him off,_ Revya says.

“Look, kid, lesson number one on the art of war here: trash talk is everything!” Gig huffs. “It’s entirely possible he could _eat_ us!”

 _You mean it’s entirely possible he could eat_ you _._ Revya snorts. _‘All warfare is based on deception.’ You can’t deceive_ me _, though. You really are full of it…_

Gig fumbles for a moment, trying to come back with something snappy and biting and _deceptive_.

But there’s nothing to say. Gig shoves their hands into their pockets. He angrily kicks some gravel down the mountain slope, and scuffs their foot against the dirt.

 _We should go after him,_ Revya decides.

“What the-?! Are you crazy, kid?!” Gig protests. “He could-”

Revya doesn’t think they have to worry. Levin doesn’t seem dangerous. He seems… different…

But, worse comes to worse…

 _Don’t worry. I won’t let my soulmate get eaten,_ Revya reassures Gig.

Gig actually sputters for a minute. He’s annoyed and insulted, and pleased and gratified.

 _You’re not going to drop this, are you?_ Gig sulks. _We’re actually going to chase after that stupid man-cow, aren’t we?_

 _It’s either that… or we head back to the village like this._ Revya shakes their arms and pulls at their hair, which is a salt-and-pepper mix of red and white. It effectively proves her point.

 _Fine,_ Gig relents. _It’s not like I can let_ my _soulmate run off into trouble by herself._

Revya smiles, pleased. Together they walk forward awkwardly and bend down over the ground.

There are a couple of hoof prints, from where Levin first struck the ground but, after that, they become light and faint.

 _Hmm… I wonder if it’ll be hard to track him_ , Revya says.

“Heh,” Gig snorts. “I’ll be a piece of cake, you’ll see. Just follow the smell of manure all the way down the mountainside.”

==

_Danette clapped her hands together in quick succession._

_“That’s another win for me!” Danette cheered, swinging her sickle swords in a flashing circle. “Add another tally to the books! And great way to end our one thousand and third training session!”_

_Revya grumbled, wiping at the bloody cuts on her arms. She sheathed the Onyx Blade and wiped the sweat off her forehead._

_“I still think it was our two thousand three hundred and thirtieth training session…” she said quietly._

_“Oh, hush!” Danette scolded. “You’re always so petty and simple. You really need to shape up and learn to let little things like that_ go _. It reflects badly on me!” She pouted. “This is why Lady Layn- Lady_ Virtuous _is always giving me a hard time…”_

_Revya sighed._

_They went to the hot springs for a bath, and Revya sunk down into the water, pressing her back against the warm stone. She held her face above water, but dunked her ears under._

_Danette was talking about babies again._

_And Revya certainly preferred Danette talk about babies than not talk at all. Danette’s endless chatter was a kind of soothing melody, one that filled up the silence and loneliness enough to take the edge off at least. But, still, it was preferable to hear about this subject matter through the heavy blur of water and distortion. Danette would be a good mother – cheerful and loving – if she could find someone with a good head on their shoulders. But it was strange to think of Danette, her childhood friend, as having a biological clock with a ringing alarm._

_It was stranger to think about herself. Revya imagined this body – this body that didn’t feel quite like it belonged to her – swelling at the belly. She imagined a baby passing through its cervix. She imagined its breasts leaking milk, and something biting at its teats. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, as much as vaguely discomforting._

_She reached her hand up to her chest and groped at it instinctively. Like it could prevent her from disappearing._

_Danette stopped talking. It seemed abrupt to Revya. But maybe it wasn’t._

_Danette was shaking her shoulder, and Revya sat back up, against the edge of the hot spring. She shook the water out of her ears._

_“Do you miss him? You miss him, don’t you?” Danette said._

_Revya shrugged. She estimated that Danette was probably more capable of putting it into words than she was._

_“You’re just so… blegh~” Danette blew a raspberry. She stuck out her tongue, and put on a expression of faux-lethargy. “What happened to the Revya that saved the entire world?! You were amazing!”_

_Revya shrugged again. Of course it had been her that saved the world. But it felt like it might as well have been someone else – it seemed so disconnected from her as a person._

_“You shouldn’t waste time missing that guy,” Danette’s nose scrunched in distaste. “He’s just an idiot. A stupid idiot liar.”_

_Danette’s legs splashed in the bath. She pulled her calves above the water, where the water streamed off her fur in running rivulets. She pouted angrily, and tears beaded in the corners of her eyes._

_“You can do better than him! Don’t waste your time missing that liar!” she spat._

_This had all fallen – water under the bridge – when Gig had finally returned._

_But Revya enjoyed Danette’s ranting, even if it was only hot air. Revya smiled when Danette fussed and hugged Revya’s shoulders fiercely. And she let herself drift away, lost in the sound of Danette’s voice._

==

 _The wild Phynx in this area are brutal,_ Revya thinks.

She ducks as another Phynx comes flying at her from the side. It manages to tear off a bit of skin at their wrist, but Revya pre-empts a second blow by lunging forward with the Onyx Blade.

“Nothing the two of us can’t handle,” Gig roars. His words are almost drowned out by the lonely howls of the Phynx.

Revya rolls her eyes and swings her sword up to dispatch the next beast.

She and Gig are sloppy in this body, she knows. One of the Phynx had taken a horrible bite out of their shoulder. And that’s what it had taken to get Gig to butt out and let her control the direction of their fight. Not that it’s stopped him from butting in every so often to shout ‘advice’ or trip her up with a fancy piece of ‘footwork’.

 _With all the noise we’re making, Levin will hear us coming_ , Revya says glumly. As the Phynx continue to howl.

“Whoohoo!” Gig cries out, ignoring her. He’s enjoying the battle in his half-vicarious kind of way.

Levin doesn’t hear them coming through. Or maybe he’s just too despondent to care. It all turns out to be much easier than either of them thought it would be.

It’s dusk, a couple of miles further down the trail, and the Phynx packs in the immediate vicinity have been dispatched. Revya’s clutching their injured shoulder, and trying to think over Gig’s incessant buzzing. There are a couple of Phynx corpses that they haven’t put there, and a smattering of hoof prints – so that’s a good sign that Levin (or at least _some_ Sepp traveller) has been through this way.

And then Revya practically trips over him.

The land is dry and barren, and the ground is filled with cracks. Revya startles when she sees Levin lying down, with his back snuggled down into one of the larger crevices. He’s lying next to a dead Phynx, with blood all over his stomach, and staring blankly at the sky.

Gig snickers, like he’s not intimidated, but Revya feels their feet stall. She has to force their legs into the motions to carry them forward.

Levin doesn’t notice them until they’re standing right over him. He blinks, and his eyes draw slowly into focus.

“Oh, it’s you guys again,” Levin says. He’s speaking in that country drawl that Revya was once used to hearing, but then he clears his throat and the accent fades away. “Still stuck together at the hip, I see.”

“Are you hurt?” Revya asks.

“Why? Wanna finish me off?” he asks.

Revya shakes her head.

“Oh _god_ , yes,” Gig grumbles.

“Too bad.” Levin snickers. He runs his hand over his stomach, wiping the blood away to reveal unblemished skin. “I’m fine. It’s just from the Phynx.”

“Figures,” Gig says, rolling their eyes.

Revya sighs. She kneels down and grabs a hold of Levin’s hand. She pulls off his battling glove and feels the calluses on his skin.

She looks up to his face. Levin doesn’t look at them as she squeezes his hand.

Gig groans. “She’s wondering why you’re laying down in the dirt, asswipe!” he prompts. “And next to a dead monster, too. Unsanitary! And I thought I had bad manners…”

Levin sighs. His hand is limp in Revya’s grasp.

“I dunno,” he says. “I’m just not feeling quite like myself…”

“Which of course means you’re feeling exactly like yourself,” Gig says. “Like a piece of shit.”

Levin sighs again. “Man, just… Go away.”

Revya flinches. She draws their hand back.

Levin doesn’t reach for her, but he flinches too. He tilts his head up to look at her. “Nah, not you,” he clarifies. “Just Gig. He’s being an ass.”

“Har har,” Gig mocks. “It’s a two for one package deal. I can’t allow you any precious one-on-one time with my dear soulmate,” he says, like it’s even a possibility. “It’s all or none.”

“Fine. Then just shut up,” Levin says evenly. He’s leaned back and staring at the sky again.

“Not a chance,” Gig says, but it’s just to be contrary. He doesn’t press the issue when Levin doesn’t respond.

Revya watches him. He doesn’t seem like he’s planning to get up anytime soon.

 _Shit! Fucking idiot!_ Gig curses. _This pathetic excuse of a World Eater actually needs someone around to make sure he doesn’t die from exposure._

 _Are you actually worried?_ Revya asks sceptically.

Gig doesn’t deign this with an answer. He stands, and walks their body around Levin to kick the dead Phynx out of the way.

 _We may as well set up camp nearby,_ Gig concedes. _That rocky outcrop over there…_ He glances over to the east, to a spot about a mile away from them. _…that’s probably the best wind shelter around here._ He glances at Levin, who’s lying despondent on the ground. _Heh, we might have to drag him by his toes. When Raksha gets like this, he’s worse than useless._

Revya feels a strong pang of reminiscence, and it takes her a second to realise it’s not hers.

 _Did he get like this often?_ Revya asks.

 _Eh, not too often,_ Gig says. He shrugs their shoulders. _You know how it is – you destroy every vestige of civilisation, and then you go on an ice cream eating binge of whiney existential shit? I mean, I don’t know how it is – but Raksha sure seemed to… And then Uncie Gig tells you to get your ass in gear because worlds don’t go around destroying themselves._

Gig laughs, but Revya actually thinks she knows what that’s like.

…

_“I always see you laughing and smiling. Of course you're happy!” Danette said._

_“Oh… I suppose,” Revya allowed._

_She felt very alone, in the wide and empty halls of Drazil. Her eyes set on Danette and Layna, and she tried to be comforted by their presence._

_Danette was chipper. “Just looking at your face makes me feel better,” she said. “I depend on you... Even if you're not really dependable. So you have to be happy, right?”_

_“…”_

_“…Right?” Danette prompted. Now she looked scared, like her own happiness was at risk here. Like she so desperately needed Revya to be happy. Like the alternative was so horribly uncomfortable and unbearable for her, she-_

_Revya nodded, because she couldn’t let Danette down. Danette had lost Lady Virtuous and her parents, and had been hurt more than once trying to protect Revya. The least Revya could do for her was be happy._

But there wasn’t that responsibility with Gig and Levin.

Gig’s still laughing, inside their head, but he stops when Revya marches over next to Levin. She drops down to sit next to him.

“Hey, kid, what are you-”

Revya lays down, parallel next to Levin, and stares up at the sky with him.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Gig protests, tapping into her swirling emotions. “I didn’t sign up for this crap! One depressive idiot is enough! I certainly don’t need two of them!”

Revya and Levin both ignore him. Revya shifts on the ground, making herself comfortable. Gig strains, trying to pull their body back up, but it proves difficult without Revya’s cooperation.

“Fine!” Gig says. “Screw you kid! Screw you man-cow! You better not expect my help when you decide it’s too cold in the middle of the night! You can set up camp yourselves! …I didn’t sign up for this,” he repeats.

“…He didn’t mean that,” Revya lies.

“Ugh!” Gig groans, before going quiet again.

They’re lying there, and Revya’s almost fallen off to sleep when Levin talks.

“Do you think it’s gonna rain?” he asks.

Revya jerks awake, startled by the words. She blinks up at the sky. It’s a deep blue now, and almost completely dark. There’s not a cloud in the sky.

“Oh, gee,” Gig says. “Clear skies in the middle of a barren plateau! I wonder…”

“I didn’t mean tonight,” Levin replies. He goes quiet for a minute… and then… “My sister doesn’t like the rain.”

Gig snorts. “I thought your sister didn’t have a soul, genius. She’d like and dislike the same things that you do.”

Except Revya knows that’s not true. How else to explain Endorph…

“Yeah, that’s the weird thing,” Levin says. “She doesn’t like the rain… but I do.” He sighs. “I hope it rains. I hope it floods… and then I’ll just… float off somewhere…”

“Oh geez,” Gig rolls their eyes. “It’s like talking to an overly emotional fishstick.”

Revya reaches out for Levin’s hand again, though. And, this time, Levin curls his fingers around their hand in return.

==

They make slow progress, travelling over the next couple of weeks. Levin’s pretty lethargic, so they start out late in the afternoon – once the worst of the midday heat had died. And they set up camp in the evenings.

“Why do you keep following me?” Levin asks, as Gig loses patience with him for the sixth day in a row and kicks him up off the ground. Levin sighs. He stands and, with one hand, reaches up to flatten the scruffy blond hair on his head. He takes care to brush it evenly around his horns.

“Why can’t you just let me sleep in?” Levin asks. “Why are you even _here_? Why don’t you leave me alone?”

Revya shrugs.

“ _Sleep in_?” Gig repeats, instead of answering the question. “Raksha, you’re not even _sleeping_! You’re just lying around!”

“So _what_?!” Levin snaps. It’s the most animated he’s looked in days, but the energy fades off his face just as easily. “It’s not like I got anyplace to be…” he says wistfully. “What the hell are we doing here? I mean… really?”

Revya steps forward and reaches for Levin’s hand. He lets her take it, although he looks slightly unsettled at the gesture.

He looks straight at Revya.

“You need to stop following me,” he says evenly.

Revya frowns. _Why?_ she thinks.

Gig jerks their hand out of Levin’s grasp.

“Yeah, why?” Gig says, sounding annoyed. “You’re full of it, Raksha. You should be fucking grateful the kid and I are wasting our time on you. You would have starved to death without us around to help you out, collecting herbs and hunting for your ass!”

Revya huffs. It’s true that she, with some help from Gig, had been doing most of the labour on their journey. She never intended to hold it over Levin’s head like that, but… She’s kind of glad _somebody_ ’s said it.

Levin gives an all-suffering look. “Geez, I’m not gonna let myself starve,” he protests. “I’m sure I would’ve worked something out if you guys weren’t here…” He falters, and then goes red. “N-not that I’m not grateful for your help… Or at least one of your’s help… It’s just…”

Levin somehow makes himself look very small.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks, quietly.

Revya’s heart catches in their throat. She coughs.

“Not really, no-” she begins.

“The hell!” Gig cuts her off. And Revya can tell his outrage is directed at her more than at Levin. “We could be anywhere! We could be in Drazil, or at the Palace in Orviska, or eating hotpods in a fancy fucking restaurant, or putzing around the village with Virtubitch and that stupid cow!

“…So don’t give me that _shit_ , Raksha!” Gig seethes. “Get moving! The sooner we get to wherever we’re going, the sooner we can get back to business!”

“Where are we going?” Levin grumbles.

“What are you, _five_ , you overgrown man-cow?” Gig shouts. “Do we have to do _everything_ for you?! You friggin decide!” Gig throws up their hands in exasperation. They fly up into the air unevenly – the left arm higher than the right.

Levin groans, but he actually helps them pack up camp. He seems a bit more at ease as he leads them off to the west.

There’s a troupe of bandits travelling in the opposite direction. They shy away from contact, veering southeast. Perhaps they’ve lost a fight, and are retreating to lick their wounds.

But Levin perks up.

“Wait here a second!” he says and, before either of them can get a word in, he goes charging off after the bandits.

“There he goes,” Gig says. “The cow brigade is back in action.”

 _It good that he seems more energetic again,_ Revya says.

Gig snorts. “He’s fast even when he’s not energetic. He’s always been that way… As a Sepp, I mean. Idiotic man-cow…”

In the distance, Levin is coming upon the bandit troupe. The more wary of the bandits are pulling into position and readying their weapons.

 _Do you think he needs our help?_ Revya asks.

Gig snorts derisively. But Revya can hear him trying to puzzle together the situation in his mind. They haven’t been able to discern if Levin is still a World Eater, or if he’s been reborn into something more benign, like Gig.

He still clearly knows how to fight, though. He deflects a couple of blows from the bandits, dodging their attacks deftly. He incapacitates one with a fist to the gut, but he doesn’t actually seem interested in fighting the rest. He’s shouting and waving his arms and the bandits stand down.

Revya watches as he gesticulates wildly. He glances back over his shoulder, directing the bandit’s attention towards Gig and Revya.

“What is that mad cow doing?” Gig says.

The bandits seem to brighten up. One goes to slap Levin on the shoulder, and Levin lets them. He scuffs his feet against the dry ground and folds his arms behind his head. Another bandit pulls out a piece of paper, scribbles something on it, and hands it to Levin. Levin bows, ever so slightly, and then turns and runs back. When the cloud of dust settles behind him, Revya can see the bandits waving him off.

Levin is across the barren field in no less than thirty seconds. He screeches to a halt in front of Gig and Revya, wearing a big grin.

“Score!” he says.

“Not even in your dreams, man-cow,” Gig says. “What did you find out?” he follows up quickly.

Levin blinks and volunteers the information. “They said there’s a nice place to eat ‘bout an hour up the road.”

No sooner does Levin finish his sentence, than Gig is slavering. “Are there hotpods?!” he demands.

“What’re you talking about? There’re always hotpods. They’re a friggin staple,” Levin says.

Revya coughs.

“Wanna check it out?” she asks Levin.

Levin falters for a minute. His cheeks bloom pink.

“Y-yeah, sure,” he stammers. “I- I-”

Revya waits.

“I-I’m gonna go scout ahead, check it out and see if it’s worthwhile. Take this!” Levin tosses the piece of paper at them, and charges off ahead, hooves thumping loudly against the hard ground.

“Son of a-” Gig cries. “Hurry up, kid! Or he’ll eat all the hotpods without us!”

They glance quickly down at the paper, on which are scribbled a couple of directions, and then Gig pulls their legs in gear and runs off after Levin.

==

_“C’mon! Let’s run! I’ll race you there!!”_

_Danette was so excited, just to be out in the open world. She had Lady Virtuous’s blessings on her shoulder, and Revya at her back. And a straight path carved into the land in front of her._

_“I can’t run as fast as you,” Revya reminded._

_But Danette was already gone, and the world hummed in tune with Revya’s breath._

_She leaned forward, and ran after as fast as she could. And her breath heaved and the world quaked and shook with it._

==

The restaurant is a tiny business, run out of the back of the grocer’s. It has only one room, with four different tables, two of which are occupied.

Revya and Gig lope over to the entrance, where Levin is talking with the waiter.

Levin turns to greet them. “Oh, you guys made it,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I was beginning to think I had to run back and get you.”

“The _hell_ , Raksha-?!” Gig huffs, trying to catch his breath. “Whatever. We’re here now.”

 _Show me the hotpods_ , Revya trills.

“Show me the hotpods!” Gig agrees.

The waiter is an older Sepp, and he shoots Levin an amused look before directing them over to their table. It’s a small two-seater, with a checked tablecloth that extends all the way to the floor.

“‘Show me the hotpods,’ you say,” the waiter smiles, pulling out Gig and Revya’s seat. “A lady with an appetite!”

“Damn straight!” Gig grins, as they plop down in the chair.

Levin hesitates before sitting across from them.

The waiter hands them their menus. Then he pulls a red candle out of his pocket and sets it on the table. He lights it with a match.

Revya freezes. Gig raises one of their eyebrows.

“Er… this isn’t a date,” Levin tells the waiter. He looks frantically across at Revya and Gig. “I didn’t tell him this was a date!” he insists.

“Oh, but I could tell,” the waiter intones to Levin. “You’re a very lucky Sepp,” he says, as he allows himself an eyeful of their exposed cleavage.

Revya shuffles nervously, glancing at the waiter out of the corner of her eye. She reaches up and pulls Gig’s shirt closed over her red bikini bra. She pauses, before pulling Gig’s jacket over that.

“No- _No_! This really isn’t-!” Levin protests, turning bright red.

“Oh, stop your whining, _darling_!” Gig says. Their shared voice is usually pretty androgynous, so Gig is working his hardest to pitch his voice in his most aggressively masculine. “Me’thinks the good man protests too much, eh!” He elbows the waiter roughly.

The action produces the desired effect. The waiter blinks in confusion and shoots them a critical look, before retreating to the back room. The rest of the restaurant patrons turn to them, confused. Levin sighs. He covers his face with his menu and slinks down low into his seat.

Gig chortles.

 _That wasn’t very nice_ , Revya protests.

 _You loved it_ , Gig laughs.

Levin’s tapping his hooves nervously against the ground, and his fingers nervously against the menu.

Revya looks at the menu. There’s no chance of ordering what she wants with Gig chanting about hotpods in their head, but…

Revya scrunches their forehead. She coughs.

“These prices… It seems pretty expensive…” she says.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Levin says, still hiding behind his own menu. “Gig’s right about one thing. You kind of have been doing all the hunting and cooking the last week. I still got some money saved up from my old job in Astec – don’t have much need for it on the road – so I’ll treat you to whatever you want.”

Revya blinks. That’s sounds like confirmation that Levin’s still using his old body, if he still has money on him from a year ago…

Gig seems more concerned with other things, though.

He cackles. “Whatever I want, Raksha?” he asks. “You know that means like five different orders of hotpods!”

“’S fine,” Levin groans. “Just be sure to get something that Revya likes too.”

Gig grumbles, more for show than anything.

 _Hey, kid! What do you feel like?_ he asks.

When the waiter returns, Gig does, in fact, order five separate plates of hotpods, along with a plate of grilled fish for Revya.

“I dunno,” Levin sighs from behind the menu, when it’s his turn to order. “The dill potatoes, I guess?”

The waiter writes this down promptly, and then tugs the menu out of Levin’s hands, and stalks off.

Levin grabs after the now-absent menu. He looks nervous, without something to hide behind. “Oh, god! I’ve been back around people for one afternoon, and everybody already hates me,” he says, slumping even further down into his chair.

“Heh!” Gig shorts.

“That’s not true!” Revya says, forcefully taking control of their mouth.

“Nah, they just think I’m a pervert who’s trying to woo some weird man-lady thing…”

Revya reaches forward for Levin’s hand.

Gig takes full advantage of the situation. He jerks their body forward and grasps Levin’s hand in both of theirs.

“Well it’s sure as hell working!” Gig shouts, loud enough for everybody in the restaurant to hear. “I mean, five different plates of hotpods! What more could a girl ask for?!”

The people sitting at the other tables shush Gig harshly and glare at Levin.

Levin’s still looking like he wishes he could melt down into the seat of his chair.

 _That was mean,_ Revya scolds… belatedly. Half-heartedly.

 _Raksha just called us a ‘thing’, kid. Anything’s fair game when you cross that line._ Gig giggles, as he tosses Levin’s hand away.

Levin scowls.

_(“Are these the naughty people that have secured a monopoly on the local food supply~? And are charging insane prices for such necessities~?”)_

The waiter brings their food, even though the fish and a couple of Gig’s hotpod dishes aren’t ready yet. The staff is probably hoping that if they eat early, they’ll leave early.

Gig, ignoring this subtext, beams at the food and swipes up their utensils.

_(“I believe so, Sarge! We’ve been tracking the goods coming in and out of here for days, and it seems they’re the distributors for the Orviska Produce Guild.”)_

The couple at the table across from them isn’t waiting for the check. They set a couple of bills down on the table and take off, with a nod to the wait staff and a cross look at the residents of Revya’s table.

 _Mmm-mmm good!_ Gig says. _Have you tried these orange glazed hotpods?! Melts in your friggin mouth!_

 _Gig… I can taste everything you taste…_ Revya says.

_(“Oh, naughty, naughty! When the people of Zazana and Muku are starving, they’re here putting money in their own wallets!”)_

Levin’s picking at his potatoes. His ears twitch.

He’s silent, as the waiter returns to deposit Revya’s fish down on the table. But once the waiter’s gone, Levin leans over the table and talks to them in a hushed voice.

“Hey, did you guys hear that? That voice… sounds kind of familiar…”

_(“The Sarge seems really carefree, but she’s really serious about stuff like this, isn’t she?”)_

_(“You bet!”)_

Inside their mind, Gig’s shouting at Revya to pick up the pace on the cutting and stabbing and _shovelling_ food into their mouth. But he takes a brief moment to respond to Levin.

“You’re cracked, Raksha! Always knew you’d go bonkers and start hearing things… Just keep your mouth shut and enjoy the food!”

_(“Oh, this is so exciting! Soon we’ll be able to deliver food to all the hungry people, and these- blockheads- will receive their due punishment!”)_

The doubtful look Levin’s face falls away.

“No… _No_ , I’m not hearing things. I’m sure of it! That’s _her_ voice! I-”

_(“We strike on the count of three! One- Two- Thr-”)_

There’s a bang somewhere else in the building. Levin jumps in his seat.

The Sepp at the only other occupied table decides it’s time to make himself scarce, and slips out the door. But Gig stays resolutely focused on their food.

_(“A good day to you! And very nice to meet you! I’ve heard all sorts of things about you~!”)_

_(“Augh! It’s the Good Day Gang!”)_

There are a couple screams from the kitchen, one of which is presumably from the waiter. There’s a crash like pots and pans are flying everywhere.

“Oh crap! _Oh crap_!” Levin says, pulling frantically at his hair. “I knew this was a bad idea! Everything’s ruined! She’s gonna find me and I- I- I gotta get out of here!”

He turns to the door, but a couple of gunshots fire out and he freezes.

“Oh god, there’s no time!” he says. He drops to his knees and crawls under the table, pulling the tablecloth down behind him.

Revya’s chewing on a hotpod and watching all this with amusement.

 _…We should probably see what’s going on_ , she tells Gig.

 _Nah, relax, kid,_ Gig replies, savouring the taste of the food. _Just think of it as dinnertime entertainment._

 _It’s only lunchtime…_ Revya says.

The door to the kitchen bursts open. The dark skirt of a woman’s dress flutters dramatically.

“Good day everyone!” Tricia says. “This place of commerce has been liberated by the Good Day Gang! I shudder to think how you customers would be able to afford such luxuries, but in the interest of fair-play- Oh…”

Tricia deflates as she looks around the mostly empty room, but then her eyes land on Gig and Revya, sitting surrounded by six different plates of food.

“Oh! It’s you, Revya! Gig!” Tricia trills, clasping her hands together and beaming. “I _never_ expected to run into the two of you here!”

Their mouth is still full of food but, inside their head, Gig groans.

“Sarge,” a Werewin interrupts, tapping Tricia on the shoulder, “we’ve secured the supplies. We just need to figure out our transportation route.”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Veletta,” Tricia says graciously. “Do you- Would you mind looking over things for a bit? I’ve just run into some old friends, and I’d like to take a moment to catch up!”

The Werewin gives her acquiescence, and flies back into the other room, barking orders at the rest of Tricia’s gang.

Tricia smiles at Gig and Revya. She pulls her hat off and adjusts her bird clip in her hair. With one hand, she sweeps her skirt up and takes seat across from them at the table.

Levin squeaks. He crawls over to Gig and Revya, under the table, and clings to their legs.

“Oh, what a joy!” Tricia says.

Gig sighs. Whether it’s at Levin or at Tricia. Revya doesn’t know. But she takes vindictive pleasure when Gig pulls their leg back and kicks Levin away.

“How wonderful to see you both!” Tricia trills. “Danette wrote me about you. It seems she was correct when she said you were together in the same body again…”

Gig grumbles around a mouthful of food.

 _You should at least try to be polite and talk with her_ , Revya says. She holds their arms to the sides, effectively preventing Gig from eating.

 _You first,_ Gig complains, as he swallows his mouthful of food.

Revya clears their throat. She smiles easily.

“Hello, Tricia,” she says. “It’s great to see you! How have you been?”

“I’ve told you time and again to call me Trish.” Tricia pouts.

Revya tries not to wince. “Trish…” she says hesitantly.

Tricia has picked up Levin’s fork. She doesn’t seem at all suspicious of the extra set of cutlery. “You don’t mind if I-?” She stabs one of Levin’s potatoes.

She seems deep in concentration, as she lifts it to her mouth and chews delicately. Revya can almost feel Levin shaking at their feet.

“This really is of the utmost quality,” Tricia demurs.

“And, yet, here you are,” Gig laughs. “Hell-bent on fucking up a good restaurant with good food~”

If Gig meant to make Tricia feel ashamed, it’s a meaning that flies a good fifty metres over Tricia’s head. Revya’s almost embarrassed that he had the naiveté to think it might have worked.

“Good food that can now be safely distributed amongst the needy!” Tricia beams proudly. “Rather than served to the prodigious gluttons that frequent this establishment!”

Tricia continues to valiantly ignore that Gig is gluttonously eating not one, but five, portions off the menu.

“You won’t believe the utter injustice of the rising food prices in this area.” Tricia’s brow scrunches worriedly. “And with birth rates soaring, how can anyone afford to feed their newborns?! With the Orviska Produce Guild hiking prices to high heaven, the way they are!” Tricia bristles, and her lip wobbles. “With the dribble I hear spilling out of the mouths of greedy merchants, I have half a mind to march south and give the Guild’s organisers a piece of my mind! But, oh, there is ever so much work to do even here. I’ve been intercepting shipments and redistributing as efficiently as I can and…”

Tricia sighs, with a pained expression.

“…I’m very sorry,” Revya says, a bit weakly. She’s not sure how she’s meant to feel about the plight of thousands of people she doesn’t even know.

Tricia’s lips purse. And Revya wonders if she can hear a whimper from under the table.

“It’s only that Mister Odie has contacted me,” Tricia admits. “And it’s really left me at a loss for what to do. I haven’t enough allies in this world. And it’s not that I wouldn’t trust him with my life. Only-”

 _Blah, blah, blah,_ Gig animates colouredly in their head. _Does this chick ever shut up about justice and world peace? It’s not like she’s trying to win a beauty contest?_

Revya shushes him. Tricia has dug through her jacket, rustling the tablecloth dangerously in the process. She pulls out a scroll, and reaches across the table, where Revya forces their hands up to take it.

She unfurls it, and begins to read:

..

_To Miss Tricia Hawthorne, and her Good Day Gang,_

_By order of the Orviska Royal Family, Orviska Produce Guild, and the Divine Seat of the Dio Family, we request that you cease and desist your activities against the shipment and sale of agricultural goods by the citizens of Orviska and their business associates abroad, lest we be forced to take legal and militant action against you._

_And I understand_ _your concerns about all the hungry people, and the rising cost of food, but you_ must _see that we’re doing the best we can, Trish. We’ve only_ just _switched our focus as a nation back to agriculture, and there’s just not a big enough crop yield right now. You understand, Trish, right? We’ve had to put in a lot of capital for new farming equipment and supplies and training! And winter is almost here, and farmers are reluctant to let go of their stores! And the Queen is distressed! And Rockum and Sockum, bless them and curse them all at once, have started a union for the farming Phynx, and they’re demanding tea breaks and siestas and higher pay! And the humans and Sepps are even worse! If we can’t_ pay _them for the food we send abroad, they’ll revolt! And then_ nobody _will have food! Oh, it’s enough to do my poor Dracon’s heart_ in _. I_ never _expected being Dio would be quite so_ hard _, Trish. Everyday I think about running back to the angels in Pulkina… but what would_ Master Endorph _say? Oh!_

_Please, Trish, please! Cooperate with me on this a little! We’re all living at the whims of supply and demand! And until the soul cycle gets a bit further on track and the lands in and outside of Orviska become less barren there’s… not much else I can do._

_Your sincere friend,_

_Odie_

_PS. PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!_

..

“Well it’s good to know that Sluggo’s as pathetic as always,” Gig grumbles. He tosses the letter aside and lets it land right in the centre of a plate of buttered hotpods.

 _Don’t say that,_ Revya says. _Odie is… trying his hardest._

“Yeah. _Pathetically_!”

“Well, what do you think I should _do_?” Tricia says. She reaches over the table for the discarded letter. She wipes the grease off of it and folds it carefully. “I do think the situation is more complicated than I’ve really afforded it, and poor Odie seems so distressed… But how can I stand by and watch hungry people being turned away from the markets without food?!”

“Yeah,” Gig laughs. “And if you think that little Queenie in Orviska Palace is going hungry because of it, you have another thing coming! She’s more shrewd than she looks. She knew hotpods wouldn’t be selling for cheap when she went ahead with this!”

 _I don’t think Queen Diness is like that…_ Revya puts in.

Gig snorts. “Sure she is. All that money’s gotta filter up somewhere.”

Revya clears their throat.

“I don’t think Queen Diness is like that,” Revya says pointedly, to Tricia this time.

Tricia frowns and averts her eyes. “I-I’d prefer not to think she’s sitting on a store of hotpods.”

“Whoa, wait!” Gig says. “I don’t think that either.” He shrugs. “Probably Sluggo is right, and there really isn’t enough to go around. That’s why you have to keep doing what you’re doing.” He grins at Tricia.

Tricia blinks. “E-Excuse me?” she says.

“Fight! Steal! Kill!” Gig chants. “Screw each other over trying to make ends meet! Hotpods go to the victor!”

Tricia cringes. “B-but isn’t that terribly…”

“You humans are always like this,” Gig grins. “Dicking each other around trying to survive! It’s pretty fun to watch~”

Revya raises their fist up and punches them in the stomach.

They wheeze, Gig more than her.

 _You’re human now too_ , Revya reminds him.

_Dammit, kid-!_

Revya cuts Gig off. “I think you should go and talk to Sluggo. …I mean Odie!” she corrects, blushing. “He doesn’t seem interested in prosecuting you… You can probably arrange a meeting with him in a neutral location.”

“…I do believe you’re right,” Tricia says. She fidgets, running her hand along the side of a dinner plate. “I think I’ll try that… But enough about me!” She beams. “I heard from Danette that you two have eloped!”

The table rattles and starts choking, much like Gig and Revya begin to.

“Wait- What now?” Gig croaks out.

“Um…” Tricia says, eyeing the checked tablecloth suspiciously. “Did the table just…”

“Just your imagination,” Gig says. “I mean I kicked it by mistake… Now back to the whole eloping thing!” he demands.

“Do you mean you’re not on your honeymoon?” Tricia says. She curls a couple of strands of hair behind her ear and lays both of her gloved hands on the table. “I mean… I _was_ surprised you’re both still in the same body. But Danette was sure the reason you were taking so long is because you had eloped.”

Gig doesn’t say anything, which is strange in of itself.

Revya clears their throat.

“We’re not- We didn’t elope,” she says. A thought occurs to her. “Was Danette worried?”

“Oh, not particularly,” Tricia says. “She wrote that she was sure you’d make it back eventually.”

Revya blinks.

“Oh,” she forces herself to say. She feels somehow betrayed by that answer.

Tricia shakes her head. “Well, that’s a shame,” she says. “You two are perfect for each other. And I was happy to hear that _somebody’s_ love life was going well. I said as much while I was having a nice chat with Vitali, over at his restaurant in Astec, and-”

The table rattles again.

“I _do_ think we have a little mouse of some kind under the table,” Tricia says. She bends down in her seat. And, before Gig and Revya can stop her, she lifts up the table cloth and peers underneath.

Tricia blinks.

Levin blinks back.

“Aieek!” Tricia squeals. She drops the tablecloth back down. She runs a couple of hands over her face and through her hair. A look of intense worry crosses over her face and she flushes bright red.

Everyone holds still for a minute. And then…

“Oh, dear,” Tricia says. She shoots a guilty look over at Gig and Revya. “I do believe I could have handled that better.”

Tricia fans herself with both hands and takes a deep breath. She bends down and poises one hand over the table cloth, pausing ever so slightly before taking the plunge.

She pulls up the curtain.

“L-Levin…” she begins. “Oh, don’t look so worried. You just surprised me… Why don’t you come on out from under there and sit with us?”

 


End file.
